I am desperately afraid of losing my memory. Sometime last year, I read neuroscientist Lisa Genova's novel Still Alice, about a woman's descent into Alzheimer's. It wasn't the finest piece of literature I've ever read, but I read it in a single sitting and sobbed for HOURS. To lose your memory seems, to me, akin to… Continue reading hoarders
It is a conscious and mindful practice to live, content, with the choices you make. Thus spoke my yoga teacher this morning. I've taken her class on and off when I'm in Vegas and she is one of the rare yoga teachers whose opening monologues or class themes I take seriously. I have a low… Continue reading didn’t Dumbledore say something pithy about choices once?
1. pit stains: I've tried all the magical aluminum prescription deodorants in the world. I'm just a sweaty, unfeminine person. It's okay. I make up for it with my sparkling personality. 2. buying feminine hygiene products: I mean, someone's gotta let the pimply teenage drugstore clerk know that ladies do, truly, bleed out their uterine… Continue reading things that used to cause me existential worry that no longer bother me
The knock came last night around eight. I froze in panic, hoping that my inertia would somehow trick the visitor into believing I wasn't home in spite of the lights and the television and the fact that until the knock, I had been belting out Brandi Carlile. I waited motionless in my desk chair until… Continue reading thoughts on living alone